


Benedictus Benedicat

by asuralucier



Category: Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
Genre: Cava Wins, Drunk Posh Boys in Love, First Kiss, Gown Sharing, M/M, Oxford Shenanigans, Sherry v. Cava
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:07:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21904213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asuralucier/pseuds/asuralucier
Summary: ”Well,” Sebastian says, mouth twisting unpleasantly, but not by too much. “He’s not completely wrong, your cousin. Except I don’t drink sherry.”In which Charles does open up a free bar for all the undesirables of his college, sort of. (Or maybe just one undesirable in particular.)
Relationships: Sebastian Flyte/Charles Ryder
Comments: 15
Kudos: 71
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Benedictus Benedicat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Skeiler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skeiler/gifts).



Sebastian stood with Aloysius balanced precariously on the crook of his left arm, as if the bear was a sleeping babe not to disturbed. He frowned at the state of things; mostly, he was staring at a rather arresting port stain near the lapel of his undergrad gown. He’d been out the night previously, and of course the invitation had extended to me, quite naturally by way of Sebastian shouting my name over and over outside of my window, until someone shushed him.

I dearly would have liked to go with them, but I was arrested at my desk due to a formative essay that should have come into existence the week before. But I’d elected to do some (most) of my writing at the college bar, and maybe I was never doing that again. 

He said finally, “This won’t do, will it, Charles?” 

I’d come to know, in recent months, Sebastian Flyte, the second son of the Lord Marchmain, as an extension of myself. He was everything I thought I would be in another life, a much nicer othered life, but a life that might have been mine, just a hairbreadth away from being in my possession. Except now it seemed to be freely given to me, _vis à vis_ Sebastian, who always fancied himself a generous soul. 

I fetched clean glasses and put them on my table. After that, I tried to think about what was in my drinks cabinet. Sebastian never opted to attend formals at his own college. It wasn’t because the food in his hall was bad, college fare was more or less the same no matter where you ate. 

“I did try to scrub at it with some vinegar before you came round,” I said, coming up beside him. “Maybe I’ve made it worse.” Part of me had thought to consult Lunt for advice, and then thought better of it.

Sebastian, in ever generous fashion, left the sleeve of his gown unworried and didn’t say it was my fault. Possibly because he knew if he was too badly behaved in my quarters, or indeed, throw a tiff, then Aloysius would again refuse to speak to him until he became very contrite and apologized.

“I shouldn’t have got so drunk,” Sebastian said morosely. “Is there anything to drink? I told you you should have come, Charles, you keep me right.” 

I watched him as he folded himself gracefully into a plush chair, settling Aloysius carefully upon one knee. He looked away from me and then rested a slightly flushed cheek against his knuckles. Either as a portrait yet to be realised and immortalised by Rossetti, or just a man in need of a drink or two before formal proper to get through the dourness no doubt assured and cemented by the immovable, unmemorable presence of the high table. 

I went and looked. The selection for this evening was indeed dire, which possibly explained my own recent attachment to the college bar. But I had a bottle of sherry, as yet unopened, and I took it out and set it next to the glasses. 

I was suddenly reminded of Jasper’s Grand Remonstration, about how my life would get inconceivably worse once I started letting undesirables keep their gowns here in my quarters and offering them sherry before formals.

“What’s that?” Sebastian pointed. He was making a face, the sort of expression he might make when I would tell him on occasion that I was short and couldn’t go out. 

“It’s sherry,” I said. “My cousin says I’ll start offering it to college undesirables and ruin my life. Do you want some or not?” 

”Well,” Sebastian says, mouth twisting unpleasantly, but not by too much. “He’s not completely wrong, your cousin. Except I don’t drink sherry. Brideshead drinks sherry.”

“I’m sure Bridey and Jasper would get on famously,” I conceded. Sherry was not my drink of choice either, but I’d learned not to be choosy. 

“We shall conspire together to get them to meet! And then you and I could be free.” Sebastian looked longingly at my drinks cabinet. “Is there really not anything else to drink?” 

As it happened, I did have a bottle of cava tucked away under my bed. I’d come by it as a gift and was hoping to save it for the end of term, to dissuade myself of the long summer I would surely spend in London with my father until Sebastian sent for me at Brideshead. He’d talked openly of his summer plans, mostly “visiting Papa in Florence and trying not to drown when I’ve drunk too much.” 

“I’ve got cava,” I admitted. “It’s probably not very good.” 

“Anything’s better than _sherry_ , Charles. Go get it, and I’ll have an excuse to shower you in the real stuff once we’ve run out.” 

And so I did. I fetched the bottle from my room and popped the cork, got new appropriate glasses and filled them to the brim (rather inappropriately). Sebastian sipped at his as Aloysius looked on and slowly, he began to appear more alive. 

“Charles,” he said my name, as if he were tasting it and without thinking, I licked my lips, chasing that very taste. “Whatever shall we do about my gown?” 

I took him in anew. His tie was askew and I felt myself drawn to straighten it. “So borrow mine. I don’t mind wearing yours.” 

Our faces were quite close together and I could see a fresh rush of colour adorn Sebastian’s cheeks, both handsomely and prettily, like a girl’s. Perhaps it was my inability to separate one from the other that kept me looking. He said, “You honestly don’t mind looking like a tit.” 

“Nobody will notice if they’re too busy staring at you,” I said. I leaned in further, until was no air to be discerned between us. I felt Aloysius’s soft fur brush against my arm. Sebastian made a soft noise against my mouth as we parted. 

I added, “Besides, Sebastian, you’re already wearing my tie. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”


End file.
